


In The Dark

by pretentious_git



Category: 91 Days (Anime)
Genre: 12 year old angelo, 14 year old nero, Anal Sex, Angelo is trying to figure out his feels, Angst, Finger Sucking, Fingering, First Time, M/M, Nero is going through some feels, Sex, Smut, Underage Sex, alternative universe, angelo x nero, avilero, avilero smut, it could be the other way around, they're in Vanetti manor, they're young that's the thing, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 00:18:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8265752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pretentious_git/pseuds/pretentious_git
Summary: What if Angelo was taking captive by Don Vanetti instead of escaping? And what if Nero was never at the scene when the Lagusa family was killed?Angelo is given to Nero after the murder of Testa and his family, a prisoner in the house of Vanetti. But over the months, Nero starts to feel just a bit more for his younger friend and captive. Basically, Avilero smut. Underage smut but it's all consensual.





	

“He’s yours,” Vanno said without introduction, tossing some smaller figure into the room Nero was currently sitting in. “Don says so.”

The Don’s son looked up in surprise from the papers he was perusing and watched as his best friend shot him a half-smirk and closed the door immediately. Nero wasn’t even given a chance to say anything in return before his attention was pulled to the newest addition of his room. A smaller kid who looked no more than two years younger than him, was on his knees on the ground, curled up and obviously crying.

            Nero, still full of a fourteen year old’s pure emotions immediately got up, and ran over. If his father had seen him act with such haste towards what clearly was a prisoner, he would’ve been hit. But the Don wasn’t here and the boy looked to be in pain.

            “Are you okay?” He asked immediately, pausing when the younger boy flinched away from him. His head was dropped low and his arms were curled up around his body. Nero bit his bottom lip. “My name is Nero. Are you okay?”

            They stayed in that position for a few minutes, Nero patiently kneeling before the other boy who was taking his time in calming down. He didn’t lift his head or move other than the rise and fall of his shoulders as he either breathed deeply or sniffled. With a small sigh, Nero dropped onto the floor, crossing his legs.

            “The Don says you’re mine but I don’t know what that means. Mafia don’t exactly take prisoners.” He tilted his head side to side, staring at a spot above the wall behind the boy. He still wasn’t responding so Nero figured that he might as well start talking _at_ him if he couldn’t talk _with_ him. “Vanno would probably explain but he left. He’s the one that brought you in.”

            Pressing his lips into a thin line, Nero tried to remember what the last thing his father said he was about to go off doing. Something to do with his friend, Testa Lagusa. Why did they bring back prisoners if his father was simply going to visit his friend?

            “Are you…” he ventured slowly, staring at the boy who was now no longer in hysterics. He was still curled up into a ball, though. “Are you from the Lagusa house?”

            The form stiffened.

            Nero sat straighter in curiosity. “You are,” he said confidently. “What happened? Why are you a prisoner? Do you know my father’s friend, Testa-“

            “DON’T SAY HIS NAME!”

            The shout knocked Nero into total speechlessness. In fact, he had even fallen back onto the floor, staring at the boy who had finally moved. It was a violent reaction for the boy had practically pounced forward, holding himself back at the last minute. It was then that Nero was finally able to see his face.

            His prisoner looked almost twelve – just a child, nothing more. His eyes were dark and bloodshot, the results of panic, terror and tears. However, there was a fierceness in his eyes that startled Nero. Were all twelve year olds able to hold that much fury in just one look? He looked broken and defeated, yet Nero sensed that there was a small flare within him that could flare at the smallest things. He was torn between demanding that Vanno take him back now or discovering more.

            “Don’t say his name,” the boy said again, this time much more dejectedly, slumping over. It was practically a whisper and Nero could only blink in surprise.

            “I-I’m sorry,” he said in response, trying to recompose himself. But it looked almost as if the boy would begin crying once more. Nero never really dealt with crying before. “What… Did you come from there?”

            The boy refused to say anything more.

            Slowly getting up, Nero cast a sidelong glance at his prisoner who was now back into a curled up position on the floor. Bolting to the door, he ran out heading for the room he knew Vanno would be in.

            “Vanno!” He called out, finding his friend pouring himself a drink. Vanno looked up, tossing him a grin.

            “Nero,” he greeted. “Enjoying your gift?”

            “That’s what I want to talk about,” Nero said with a small frown. “Who is he? Where did he come from? What did you do at Lagusa’s house?”

            At the last question, Vanno’s smile faltered and he looked away momentarily. When he looked back, his smile had dimmed. “It was an interesting job,” he said nonchalantly, one that Nero could call off as bullshit immediately. “We… Don wanted to clear things up around here and…that required taking out Lagusa.”

            That part didn’t surprise him. Things had to be done and even if it hurt, his father wasn’t the type of man to let sentiments get in his way. “And?”

            “We were supposed to kill the entire family.” Vanno paused once again.

            “…And?”

            Vanno stared at him, as if waiting for Nero to catch on. He probably could but he had no intention to. With a sigh, Vanno used his glass to gesture in the direction of Nero’s room. “Obviously we didn’t.”

            Nero crossed his arms, nodding. So the boy upstairs was Testa Lagusa’s son and not only was he taken prisoner by the Mafia, but his entire family was destroyed. It was a reasonable call for hysterics. “Why did you take him alive?”

            At that, Vanno shrugged. “Don said you could make use of him.”

            “…What am I supposed to do with him?” He wasn’t sent on jobs yet nor was he at an age to properly advise his father on any Mafia dealings. What was he supposed to do, _babysit_ this kid?

            “Totally up to you, Nero. His name’s Angelo.” Vanno said before turning away to take a sip. And just like that, the conversation closed.

            That was six months ago. Now, as Nero looked at the boy sprawled upon his bed, he understood why exactly no one in the party could bear to kill him. Angelo was the picture of innocence despite the fact that his fiery mouth and quick wits were enough to differentiate him from the rest of the twelve year olds in the world.

            They had grown to become close friends quickly, though Angelo was practically held in the house of his enemy. Nero had stood up for him constantly, calling his father, his goons, and even Frate off of him whenever he sensed or saw that Angelo was having a hard time. Day after day, Angelo would get mad at Nero, claiming that he didn’t need his help to fend for himself, but day after day Nero would simply smile and nod, patting him on the shoulder and promising that he’d let off the next time.

            Day after day after day.

            There was a routine with them now. Angelo avoided Vanno, Don and his uncle Ganzo like the plague but he was civil to them. Nero could quite obviously see the fury behind every look and word but he pushed the thought to the side. One day, he was sure, Angelo would rise to find his revenge. Surprisingly, a part of him was excited for that time to come.

            Nero’s father thought that he had a leash on his prisoner, having ‘tamed’ him over the months. There was no way on heaven and on earth that he’d ever admit that he looked at Angelo with warmth in his heart and that the sharp-tongued younger boy was what kept his days exciting.

            Now, at least, the warmth in his chest and grown into a full out flame, blazing brilliantly for his younger friend. He blamed it on his age – he was confused by what he felt. He had heard Fio talking about it whenever she looked upon a man she fancied. The flutter in her chest, the squeeze of nervousness whenever they would speak. The ‘brilliance of love’, is what she’d call it.

            He felt all of that and more, but was confused. Angelo was still but the broken boy he had first met that fateful day, but with more spitfire within him. They were friends now, yes. Inseparable, practically. But could a man love his enemy? Even more, his enemy’s son?

            “Angelo,” Nero whispered as he climbed onto the bed in the darkness. He had gone to relieve himself and returned to see his friend sprawled gracefully on the covers. They had taken to sharing a bed after days upon days of simply talking late into the night on Nero’s covers. Neither boy complained, nor did they question it. “Angelo, wake up.”

            It was a shame to ruin such a picturesque moment but the feelings within Nero were beginning to consume him. He hadn’t been able to think properly the last _week_ because of them. Vanno claimed that he was horny, and that he should just go out on the streets and find a nice bird to take home with him. He claimed that he was old enough to browse around by now.

            But when Nero heard the word ‘home’, he thought of Angelo. And when he heard ‘browse,’ he felt repulsed. Why prowl the streets for an easy prey when he had the cream of the crop right here in his room?

            Brushing the thoughts aside, he put his hand on Angelo’s shoulder, pressing his fingers lightly into his skin instead of shaking him. It had taken a while for Angelo to be alright with anyone touching him in the Vanetti household, really, but when Nero had reached out and Angelo finally didn’t pull away, it wasn’t simply pride that filled his chest, but elation.

With a soft sniffle, the dark haired boy blinked his eyes open, looking up at him blearily. “Nero?” came the quiet answer as Angelo reached up to rub at his eyes. “What’s wrong? What time is it?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Nero said, staring down at him. It was amazing to see the difference of Angelo in the day and him in the moonlight. He was like a statue – flawless and beautiful with a youthful complexion. His eyes were still bright and open, never dimming in the presence of the Don but simply hardening. Nero loved that about him. Angelo was always so ready to _fight_ , so ready to prove his worth and show his strength – it was intoxicating being around someone so headstrong.

“Then what is it?” Angelo whispered, staring up at him in confusion. Nero hovered uncertainly above him before deciding to move. The hand on his shoulder moved up to his cheek and he gently cupped it, watching as Angelo’s eyes widened in surprise. “Nero?”

            It was one question that housed so many more, but all Nero could focus on was the fact that Angelo hadn’t pulled away. Taking that as a step forward, he leaned in to press their foreheads together, breathing in deeply and closing his eyes. Angelo’s scent…he could get drunk off of it any day. “Nero,” Angelo said once more and he swore, it sounded like a prayer.

            “I need you,” Nero said, mentally cursing when his voice came out low and raspy. He sounded desperate. Perhaps he was. “I need you, Angelo.”

            The body beneath him shifted a bit and Nero didn’t need to open his eyes to know that Angelo looked wholeheartedly confused. “What are you talking about? What do you mean?”

            “Do you trust me, Angelo?” Nero asked, opening his eyes to stare deeply into the now-awake dark eyes that looked at him in concern.

            There was a pause, one that Nero appreciated. It wasn’t Angelo hesitating in his answer. Instead, it was the fact that by answering it, Angelo would be placing everything and more into Nero’s hands. “Of course I do,” was the reply, quiet and full of sincerity.

            “Even though my father killed your family? Even though you were brought here against your will? Even though you were given to me as a prisoner? Do you still trust me, Angelo?”

            The silence was almost murderous this time, what with Angelo stiffening underneath him. They hadn’t brought it up since the first week, when they both agreed to push it aside for a later date. Now, Nero was putting it all out there in the open. Angelo tried to sit up but Nero pushed him down with his body, moving his head and burying his face against Angelo’s neck. Here, his scent was stronger and already Nero could feel himself losing his mind. This young boy – this small, broken, patched-up boy – was the reason he was losing this mental battle swiftly.

            “Nero- “Angelo started, pausing again when he felt that Nero was practically on top of him this time.

            “Please,” Nero rasped, one arm still cupping Angelo’s cheek and the other now against his arm. “Please. Do you trust me?”

            There was only a beat of silence before “Of course I do.”

            With a sigh of relief, Nero nodded his head against Angelo’s neck, feeling the heat of his skin radiate against his. He could feel Angelo’s pulse as it steadily grew faster and he wondered if his was the same. As gently as he could, he pressed a soft kiss against the pale skin, feeling Angelo jolt beneath him.

            “What are-“

            “Trust me,” Nero whispered, pressing another one, this time harder. “Just trust me.”

            Angelo quickly shut his mouth but another gasp wasn’t able to be restrained when Nero pressed a trail of kisses starting from his jaw down to his collar bone, nudging his shirt’s edge away with his nose. “Nero,” Angelo said in what Nero could swear was a whine. It spurred him on even more and his arms began to move.

            Firm hands glided it up Angelo’s side, gently pushing up his shirt. It went slowly – so slowly, that even Angelo began to wriggle in impatience. Nero distracted him by baring his teeth and biting as lightly as possible at the junction of his neck and shoulder, grinning when Angelo jerked beneath him.

            “Do you like that?” He said lowly as his hands began to tug the shirt off of Angelo, his eyes immediately flicking down to stare at the expanse of his chest. He knew he’d get no verbal response – the boy’s face was already a bright red.

            Angelo lay still, breathing hard and with his eyes closed. Determined to get more than just a gasp, he began to press his lips lightly on his chest, traveling down to the middle. “Do you like this, Angelo?” he asked. His only answer was a quickening in breath.

            In truth, Nero had no idea what he was doing. He had heard talk of it from the men and pictures of it in magazines, but in practice, it was like a new world. Angelo was delicate – a masterpiece he wanted to both savor and ravish, and there was little Nero wouldn’t do to learn his body’s secrets. Plus, Angelo was but a child. Was this right? Nero couldn’t properly say. Angelo never struck him as immature. Some days, he seemed even older than Nero.

            His next target was his nipples where he breathed on them softly. A soft keening sound came from Angelo and without hesitation, Nero licked at one lightly. Angelo cussed, a sin against such a perfect mouth, and Nero took it as allowance to continue. He placed his lips around it and sucked, his tongue flicking it until swollen.

            Angelo writhed beneath him, his hands reached up to grip Nero’s shoulder tightly. He didn’t push him away, however, and that was all that mattered. Nero switched to the other nipple, showering it with the same affection as the first, reveling in the sounds of obvious want that Angelo was giving.

            “There’s more,” Nero whispered against his chest, letting his tongue lave a pathway back up to Angelo’s neck where he bit him once more. “I can give you more.”

            Red spots were beginning to blossom on Angelo’s pristine skin but when Nero looked up, he was met with dark eyes that screamed with want. Just like that first day, Nero saw a violent sort of aura within those irises and once again, he was struck with the thought that Angelo was dangerous. He was dangerous now, dragging Nero into his seductive world without even knowing about it, and he’d be dangerous in the future, if only his father knew.

            “Do you even know what you’re doing?” Angelo asked, and Nero almost cracked a grin. Even in bed, Angelo’s words were like a bullet.

            “No,” he replied honestly, “but do you?”

            “No. Will it hurt?”

            Nero leaned down to press his lips just at the corner of Angelo’s. They had yet to share a kiss but they had no reason to rush. It seemed unholy, almost, to desecrate something so pure. Angelo had a mouth filled with swears and harsh words but because of that it made him special. Nero was sure he was going crazy.

            “I’d never hurt you,” he promised, feeling a deep breath be released from the body underneath him. “For the rest of your life, I promise to never hurt you.”

            Slowly, his hand began to trail down Angelo’s chest, inching closer and closer to his pants. They slipped past the edge and Nero could feel Angelo’s breath quicken.

            “I can’t stay here,” Angelo said in a rush as Nero’s fingers began to press closer. “I hate your father.”

            “One day,” Nero whispered in his ear, biting the lobe. “In the future, you can kill him. I know you’ll be the one.”

            “But that’s it,” Angelo said, and it sounded as if he were almost scared. “That’s all I can live for. He killed my family. And once I kill him, I’ll have no use for a future. I’ll have nothing to live for.”

            Nero lifted his head to look down at him, their eyes locking in a deep gaze. “Angelo,” he said, his hand paused. “I’ll give you something to live for.” He grasped Angelo’s hard cock and the younger boy gasped, arching his hips in search for the contact. There was no doubt that Nero was the first to touch him there and the delight he felt at watching Angelo groan was astounding. He stroked lightly, letting his thumb brush over the tip and he felt his own cock harden painfully at the sound of Angelo’s high whine.

            “Nero-“ Angelo gasped, his hips rocking forward as his eyes fluttered shut. “Nero, please-“

            He pulled his hand away quickly, ignoring Angelo’s surprised shout and reached down, yanking off Angelo’s pants completely. He shucked off his own, sighing as his hard cock was released, pressing against Angelo’s thigh. When he looked up, he saw those precious dark eyes widened considerably, looking down at his and Nero’s members so close together.

            Without waiting, Nero reached over and took Angelo’s cock, resuming the slow strokes. Angelo’s head fell back upon the pillow once more and he leaned down, taking another nipple into his mouth. The body beneath him writhed and moaned and the fire within Nero was raging. He needed more. He needed more _now_.

            “Angelo,” he groaned into the boy’s neck. “Angelo.” He lifted his head and finally, _finally_ , took Angelo’s lips in a sloppy kiss, hard and fast. Inexperienced and hungry for it anyways, teeth clacked and bit, bruising and unorganized. But Nero’s hand moved faster and Angelo’s moans grew louder and before either of them knew it, Angelo released a stuttering cry and his body went frigid.

            Heat splattered against Nero’s hand and he had to mentally get a hold of himself before he accidentally released as well. He stroked Angelo through it entirely, sucking his tongue into his mouth and showering him in affection.

            When Angelo calmed down, he looked at Nero with eyes that screamed satisfaction. Nero smiled faintly. “Is that it?” Angelo asked after a few breaths.

            “Do you want it to be?” Nero’s fingers released Angelo’s limp cock and traveled downwards, gently pushing his ass cheeks open. He pressed a single finger to the tight hole he found and watched as Angelo jumped and widened his eyes once more, now fully alert.

            “I-I,” Angelo stuttered, his waist squirming as Nero gently rubbed his finger back and forth on the small patch of skin between his cock and his hole. His eyes threatened to close again at the feeling but Angelo swallowed hard. “No. No, I don’t want it to be.”

            “Good,” Nero said as he pulled his hand away. He brought his hand up and held out two fingers in Angelo’s direction. He gave him a small smile. “Could you lick these?” The moment he said it, his face burned. In context it sounded romantic since they had no oil around and saliva was the next best option. But in words, they sounded ridiculous, if Angelo’s surprised face was anything to go by.

            But like anything Angelo did, it was utterly surprising to Nero when he leaned forward and opened his mouth, using his tongue to draw both fingers in. Nero watched in awe as Angelo closed his eyes and sucked around them, his tongue wrapping around each finger separately and getting them both equally wet. When he opened his mouth and eyes, a cheeky grin appeared that made Nero want to fuck going slow entirely. “Does that work?”

            “Yes,” Nero all but forced out, his hand dropping back down. Watching Angelo closely, he pressed one finger to the hole, pressing in lightly. Angelo’s breath caught and his head tilted back, revealing a neck covered in red marks in the moonlight. Nero felt a flash of possession in his chest at the sight. With one finger in, he began to pull it in and out slowly, rubbing his thumb against Angelo’s neck in a comforting manner. “Is this okay?” He asked, getting his finger all the way past the second knuckle.

            Angelo didn’t respond until Nero pulled it out entirely. “It’s fine,” he said, lifting his head. His eyes were slightly glazed. “It feels strange.”

            “Does it feel good?” Nero asked, slightly worried.

            There was a beat as Angelo thought about it, then he nodded. “It feels good.”

            Nero nodded in return and pressed the finger back to his hole but this time with the second finger. “Will you tell me if it’s still okay?”

            There was a flash of annoyance that flickered across Angelo’s face and Nero almost pulled back completely until he spoke. “I’m not a girl, Nero,” came the biting tone that Nero had come to learn and love. “It’s still okay.”

            “Alright, alright,” the Don’s son said with a huff of laughter, pushing both fingers in without warning. Immediately, Angelo cried out and jerked his hips up, letting out a long groan as Nero continued to push in without stopping. Until both fingers were fit in snugly, he didn’t stop.

            “Nero-!” Angelo gasped, his chest heaving at that long and slow sensation. “What were you-“

            “Are you still okay?” The question came out automatically as Nero was too fascinated by the sight of his two fingers being clenched inside of the tightest hole ever. Angelo was squeezing his fingers and every so often he’d loosen it up – enough for Nero to slide his fingers in and out.

            “I’m okay, damnit, please!”

            Nero was never unable to deny Angelo anything and without any more prompting, he began to fuck Angelo slowly on his fingers. Every groan that he dragged out of the younger boy as he pulled his fingers out were echoed with his own as his eyes stayed glued to the sight of Angelo’s fluttering hole around his digits. Every harsh intake of breath that Angelo made every time he pushed in was a sight he burned into memory.

            Before long, Nero decided he had had too much. He pulled his fingers out, ignoring the disappointed whine. He shifted forward, reaching for his cock that hung heavily underneath him. Stroking it a few times, he looked up to see Angelo watching him with indecipherable eyes. “This might hurt.”

            The eyes didn’t waver. “I trust you.”

            Nero pressed a kiss to Angelo’s swollen lips which turned more heated than expected. They pulled apart with both parties breathing heavily and both cocks screaming for release.

            Sitting up, Nero placed himself between Angelo’s legs and he held his thighs apart despite the deepening blush that appeared on the younger boy’s cheeks. Spitting on his hand, he began to stroke his cock, coating it with enough saliva that it could be used as decent lubrication. Angelo deserved the best but there was no way Nero could waltz around the manor looking for lube without bringing up questions.

            The boy in topic was watching him intently, hands resting on the covers at his side and eyes following Nero’s hand closely as he stroked up and down. Then, he took one of Angelo’s legs and hefted it upon his shoulders, watching as panic appeared in his eyes. “What-“

            “This is easiest,” Nero promised, hoping to god it was. He wasn’t exactly sure but he figured the position would be convenient. “Do you-“

            “Trust you, yes. Get on with it.”

            And just like that, the momentary fear in his eyes disappeared, replaced with determination.

            Nero lifted the other leg over his shoulder and Angelo let out a small noise at the shift in position. Holding his cock in one hand, he lined it up with the hole and pressed forward. Angelo gasped, biting his lip tightly in order to keep his noises restrained. When the head finally pressed in, Nero stilled, trying to recollect his thoughts.

            His mind was in a whirlwind at how tight Angelo was and Angelo was breathing just as heavily at the intrusion. “Is that- Is this-“ He rasped and gasped loudly when Nero shut him up by pushing forward just a little bit more.

            “This is not _it_ ,” Nero growled, dropping his head forward when Angelo clenched around him at his voice. “Loosen up, please.”

            “I- What?” Angelo groaned, lifting his head to stare at Nero in shock. “How can I just _loosen up_?”

            Nero’s breath was growing labored as Angelo’s hole continued to clench tightly around him. He wasn’t even all the way in and he’d end up blowing just because. “Angelo, you need to loosen up,” he said again in desperation. He couldn’t even pull out at this point because Angelo was squeezing him so tightly.

            “I don’t know how-“

            Nero surged forward and shoved his face into Angelo’s neck, opening his mouth and clamping his teeth down at the junction of his neck tightly. Immediately, Angelo shrieked and Nero wasn’t able to throw his hand up to muffle him. He arched beneath him in shock, a groan ripping from Angelo’s throat as his hole loosened just enough for Nero to shove his hips forward all the way in. “This is _it_ ,” Nero growled into his neck as he began thrust.

            With every slam forward, Angelo let out a ragged breath and groan. His hips rocked forward, trying to meet Nero’s every thrust but Nero amped up the speed until he was thrusting in at a punishable pace. He pressed his cock in so far that when he dragged his hand down Angelo’s body and pressed it deep against his stomach, he could feel the movement beneath his skin. To feel Angelo’s small form beneath him taking in his cock with no resistance, the flames inside of him grew unbearable. He fucked him hard, he fucked him fast, he fucked Angelo knowing that it hurt but knowing that both of them couldn’t care less.

            He fucked the pain of Angelo’s dead family out of him and replaced it with himself. All of himself.

            “Nero, Nero-“ Angelo gasped between thrusts, his hands scrabbling against Nero’s back and shoulders as he tried to find anything to hold on to.

            “You trust me,” Nero groaned as he pressed bruising kisses over the ones he had already left on Angelo’s neck. The idea still baffled him, that this boy could place so much trust and affection in the son of the man who killed his family. He had nothing to do with the murder yet the guilt he felt and pity for Angelo was real and always would be. “You trust me.”

            “I do,” Angelo replied, sounding close to tears. “I do.”

            “Do you still want to die?” Nero asked, thrusting so hard that the bed began to slam against the wall. There’d be questions tomorrow but at this point, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but this. “Do you still want to die after you kill my father?” He didn’t know why he was asking. He just had to know.

            “I- I don’t know- I don’t k-know.”

            “Do you have anything to live for?” The question were heavy, deep, too much for any person to think properly on.

            “I d-don’t know! I- Yes- I-I-“

            “Angelo, what do you live for?”

            Each thrust was hard and rough, a lasting mark on Angelo’s dignity, his pride and life. A mark made by Nero that could never be erased for as long as they lived. A mark that made Angelo _his_.

            “R-Revenge, …Agh!” Nero had struck something sensitive and Angelo nearly lifted entirely off the bed. “There! More, please!” He had no idea what he was asking for but Nero had no idea what he was giving. They were just trading with each other their all.

            “And once your revenge is finished,” Nero grunted, sweating dripping down his temple. “What are you going to live for?”

            “I- Nothing-“ his words were punctured with gasps and moans every time Nero sheathed in.

            “That’s a lie,” Nero said. “I said I’d give you something to live for.” Angelo nodded quickly, words failing him at this point. His head was thrown back and his neck was mottled in colour. Sweat made his hair look matted and his face was an ever changing visual of emotions. Nero thought it was breathtaking.

            “ _Who_ do you live for, Angelo?”

            There was a gasp that Nero knew wasn’t simply because of his cock. Angelo’s hands dug in deeper against his back and he fell forward, their chests pressed together as Angelo whispered hoarsely in his ear.

            “You.”

            He knew it, they both did, that they couldn’t last long. Within seconds, the volume had reached a crescendo that was no doubt heard around the manor and with three more thrusts, Angelo was releasing against his stomach and Nero was spilling inside of him. Nero continued to weakly press in, trying to ride through it completely and once he became too sensitive to continue, he pulled out.

            “Was that okay?” he whispered, his forehead pressed against Angelo’s as they breathed heavily together, trying to come down from the high they had just found themselves in.

            The arms around him tightened and Angelo pressed a soft kiss against his lips.

            “Yes. It was okay.”

            There was nothing he wouldn’t do for this boy, nothing he wouldn’t try. Whether it be saving his life or helping him take another, Nero mentally swore his allegiance to the young boy that stole his heart. In the moonlight, Angelo looked innocent – an image of purity and perfection that no one could taint. But as he clutched him closer and felt the wetness against his stomach, felt the heat of his body against his own, Nero knew. He knew that Angelo was dangerous, whether it be now with his emotions or in the future with his life.

            And that was alright. It was perfectly okay.

**Author's Note:**

> This is written in dedication to everyone in the Hell Chat! ^^ I know I'm quite new but I can't stress enough how much I think you guys are super enjoyable and fun to talk to. Thanks for letting me be a part of your community :D


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